


i will soften every edge

by hedasgonnahate



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, slowburn, some angstttt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5882740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedasgonnahate/pseuds/hedasgonnahate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia transfers to the school her brother and old best friend, Clarke, go to. She moves into an on-campus apartment with Clarke, Lexa, and the enigmatic Raven Reyes. </p><p>((octaven au with side clexa ))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

You’re not sure about this transfer to a new school, particularly because it’s the same school your brother goes to. You needed to get away from California, though, and the East Coast was just about as far as you could get right now. Bellamy is a grad student and you’re going to be a sophomore. Hopefully that’s a big enough gap for you to not run in the same social or academic circles. He’s overprotective and a little bit douchey sometimes, but you really love him.

The biggest draw to this university, though, is Clarke Griffin. Your high school best friend. You have kept in touch quite well despite the distance and she’s invited you to live with her, her girlfriend, and their friend in an on-campus apartment. Your previous college experience has been absolute shit, so it could only be an improvement. Between cheating boyfriends, a crazy roommate, awful professors, and an overall disdain for the school itself, you’re ready for year two somewhere, anywhere, else.

Clarke has told you about her girlfriend. It was over FaceTime and she couldn’t stop smiling or blushing. It was cute. Her name is Lexa. She’s stoic and serious at first, but Clarke swears you’ll get to know her softer, sillier side. She also warned you about her roommate, soon to be yours too:  “She’s amazing,” Clarke had said, “but she’s going through a really tough time lately, physically and mentally.” Whatever this girl, Raven, is dealing with, it seems to be somewhat of a mystery to Clarke herself, so you didn't ask any follow-up questions.

When you sign off of your video call, you receive a text from Clarke. It's a photo of the three of them. They all look drunk and gorgeous. You recognize Lexa as the one with the braided hair and smirk because Clarke is strewn across her. It is safe to assume the other girl, a latina with a very tight dress on and a tight smile to match it, is Raven. You appraise her for a moment and then shoot Clarke a quick reply about not realizing you were signing on to live with three models. Clarke sends back a wink and a promise of a really great year. You find yourself, for the first time in a long time, full of hope.

 

The first day is a blur.

Bellamy is, of course, standing outside the apartment complex when you pull up. He glances to your backseat and winces when he sees how much stuff you packed away, but pulls your door open excitedly. He is such a puppy.

“O!”  

He pulls you into an embrace that quickly leads to him picking you up and twirling you around. You try not to squeal, but when you do, you feel the vibration of his laughter.

“Hey, Bell. You’re a great one man welcoming party, but put me down. Now.”

He releases you and scoffs when you ruffle his overgrown mess of dark hair. You glance up at the building, slightly nervous. Bellamy is already tugging boxes out of your car, though, and you know better than to argue against help. You make sure to grab just as much as he did. He rolls his eyes. You can’t help your competitive nature.  

In the elevator, you realize he knows where you’re going and you don’t.

“How do you know where I live?”

You’re suspicious.

“I’m there all the time, so I don’t know how I wouldn’t,” he replies casually.

You’re confused. As far as you know, Bellamy only knows Clarke as that girl who was always at your house and rifling through your fridge. When he walks into the apartment without knocking and Clarke shoves him out of the way to hug you, it occurs to you that they’re friends. So much for different social circles.

You’ll ask later why no one told you your brother and best friend are all buddy buddy, but you don’t have time right now because Clarke is pulling you around excitedly in what she describes as a tour, but what feels more like a rollercoaster ride. In the room Clarke says is hers and Raven’s, you meet Lexa. She’s curled up on Clarke’s bed, reading. She tells Clarke to calm down, but shakes your hand and smiles kindly.

“Raven will be back later,” Clarke explains, finally slowing down slightly. “I’ll show you your room!” She’s pulling you again and your stomach lurches. Lexa gives you a sympathetic shrug.

There is a small kitchen, a living room, two identical bedrooms on opposite sides of the apartment and one bathroom. It has two sinks, at least.

Yours and Lexa’s room is much neater than Clarke’s and Raven’s. Lexa’s side is almost bare and you have no problem with that. Bellamy has already placed four boxes on your bed.

“I’m so excited,” Clarke says, squeezing your hand. You squeeze back, but she’s known you long enough to sense that you are overwhelmed, so she leaves you to unpack.

Bellamy brings the last of your stuff in, wiping sweat from his brow.

“So...you and Clarke are besties now, huh?” You hope there is no bitterness in your voice.

He grins easily. “I wouldn’t say we are ‘besties,’ but we hang out in the same group.” You nod.

“Listen, O,” he starts, “I realize you’re an adult now and I’m not going to treat you like a kid just because you’re my little sister. I know you don’t want that.” You really love him.

When you’re unpacked and Bellamy has left with a final kiss to your forehead, you make your way out to the living room. She’s in unflattering sweats instead of a form fitting dress, but you recognize her immediately. She’s on the couch, one leg propped up on coffee table in front of her. It’s covered fully by a big, complicated brace. You remember back to what Clarke warned you about Raven going through a rough time. As you get closer, you train your eyes to stay on her face. She laughs at whatever is said on TV before she notices you and you smile at her smile. When she turns to look at you, you’re still grinning stupidly. She quirks her brow at you, curious.

“I’m Octavia,” you offer, unable to think of a better or more thorough introduction for yourself.

Her eyes roam your face and then trail down, unashamedly. You suppose you didn’t have to be that careful not to get caught staring at her leg based on how long she looked at your chest.  You shift under her gaze. “Raven,” is all she offers as a response, finally, voice gruff as if she hasn’t spoken in awhile. You feel stupid for approaching her, but she taps the seat beside her and you know better than to dismiss the invitation. You feel even more stupid for being intimidated by Raven when you see that she’s watching cartoons. She snorts at some dumb joke onscreen and you decide that she’s distracted enough for you to take your turn to give her a once (or twice) over.

You can tell by her arms and her figure that she’s fit. You wonder how she works out with such a constricting brace. Not that you’d ask. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. You admire her soft, but strong features, lingering on her full lips for a moment. You’re pulled from your staring by her brow arching again and then her eyes meet yours. She looks sad. You turn away quickly and pretend to be immersed in the cartoon. You stay like that, silently sitting side by side.

 

That’s how Clarke and Lexa find you an hour later, when they come in with two boxes of pizza.

 

“Finally!” Raven blurts out and you’re almost startled at her speaking. “I’m starving, Griff!”

 

Clarke regards you and Raven curiously, but then drops the pizza on the coffee table and pats Raven on the head affectionately. Lexa goes to the kitchen and comes back with four paper plates and a six pack of beer.

 

“Don’t tell your brother we are providing you with any alcohol,” Clarke tells you and you scoff. She sits on the floor beside Lexa, who immediately turns her body toward her as if they are magnets drawn together. Raven moves to take her leg off the table and she groans loudly in either exertion or pain, you are not sure which. Maybe both. You feel uncomfortable, watching Lexa’s and Clarke’s expressions to see if this is worrisome behavior. Clarke winces. Lexa puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.

 

“I’m fine,” Raven grunts, recognizing the uncomfortable silence. “Chill, Clarke.”

 

She re-situates, pulling a slice of pizza out of the box and taking a messy bite. She forgoes a plate and you watch Lexa subtly slide a napkin toward you. You note that Clarke’s eye remain on Raven while she eats, barely eating herself. Lexa, who you would never peg as the conversationalist of the group, tells you all an amusing story about a certain professor that should be avoided at all costs. When Clarke and Raven laugh, you allow yourself to relax.

 

Later on, when you see Raven in the kitchen tossing a handful of pills into her mouth and swallowing without so much as a sip of water, you wonder what exactly is going on in this apartment. She sees you watching her and looks at you like she’s challenging you to comment. You almost do, what with your competitive nature and all. Instead, you make your way over to her and say the first thing that comes to your head: "I know a lot of dudes who would admire your impressive lack of gag reflex."

Raven's eyes widen and she breathes out a startled laugh. Suddenly, she's doubled over, clutching her torso, laughing hysterically. You laugh, too, mostly at the sound of her laughter. 

"You're weird as hell," she says finally, but it is said like a compliment and it definitely feels like one. 

You nod, agreeing. 

Maybe it's because her eyes are still lit up in mirth or the crooked grin she throws your way, but before you actually process it, you're inviting her to your room to "hangout."

She shrugs and follows you to your room. You notice her limp, but know better than to mention it. 

You're almost surprised to see Lexa even though it's her room, too. She's at her desk, typing furiously at her computer. She glances up and looks between you and Raven confusedly before going back to her typing. You wonder why it's so strange for two roommates to get to know each other. 

You tell Raven to sit on your bed because you're not sure if it hurts to stand. She complies. 

When you sit next to her, she looks at you expectantly and you realize you invited her here without having any real cause. 

"What's your major?" It's a safe enough conversation starter.

"Mechanical engineering." She glances around, looking bored. "You?"

"Exercise science." You jokingly flex your arm to accompany your answer. 

She rolls her eyes, but you see her fight a smile.

Turns out, it wasn't that great a conversation starter. You're glad Lexa has headphones on because it's bad enough one other person has to witness this awkwardness. 

"Are you going to ask me the real question you want to ask?" Raven spits the question out after several minutes, suddenly angry out of seemingly nowhere.

What occurred in the last minute that you missed?

You know you look baffled, but the fact that your eyes dart down to her brace subconsciously gives you away. You decide it's like ripping off a band-aid. 

"Are you in pain?" 

It's just as personal as 'what happened to your leg' and you really didn't want to ask, but her glare finally softens when you do. 

She looks surprised. 

"Constantly." 

Your chest aches, but you don't get a chance to answer because suddenly the tornado that is Clarke Griffin bursts into the room to usher you all into the living room for a 'movie night.'

The couch has just enough room for four, mainly because Clarke sits directly on top of Lexa. Raven sits beside you and props her leg back up on the coffee table, giving you a reassuring nod. 

Clarke presses play. 

 

 

 

 


	2. 2

Clarke looks at Lexa in a way she never looked at any of the boyfriends (and that one girlfriend) you had ever seen her with. She shrugs when you tell her this, glancing toward the front door like she’s hoping Lexa will come through at any minute. You’re a little bit freaked out when she does, just a few moments later. Clarke looks as surprised as you do. Her eyes widen and she’s up and across the room, snaking her arms around Lexa’s neck before the door has even shut behind her. Lexa shoots you a polite smile over Clarke’s shoulder before pulling her in for a thorough kiss.

It’s been a few days and you’re already used to it, their constant affection and need to be near each other. You get it now why they have separate bedrooms. It’s a good idea, in theory. They already spend every moment together, so it’s good for them to have one place to be alone...not that they actually use those places as they were intended. They are either both in your shared room or both in Clarke and Raven’s room. You don’t mind, though.

Classes start tomorrow. You’ve got your books, your binders, your schedule, and the incessant feeling of dread that comes along with it all. Clarke said she wanted one last night of unhindered fun, so you’re not surprised when you walk out of your room at around 8:00 PM and the living room is full of people. It doesn’t look like a party, more of a small gathering. There are at least five different conversations going on, though, and it makes you wonder just how loud you had been playing your music to have not heard them before.  “Octavia!” Lexa calls you over and you can tell she’s been drinking by her flushed cheeks and uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “Come meet everyone!”

First there’s Monty and Jasper. They seem very different from each other, but you can tell they’re best friends by the way they bicker. Then there’s Anya. She’s Lexa’s closest friend. You pretend not to be scared of her, meeting her stern gaze with one your own. Lincoln is really hot, but he’s a grad student, older than your brother, so that would be weird. Maya is quiet and polite. She seems slightly out of place in the group, but then you see Jasper place a hand on her shoulder affectionately and you understand. Murphy is so broody that you almost laugh out loud. Wells is the exact opposite, happy and sincere. They all seem nice enough.

You find Bellamy and Clarke in the kitchen, refilling their cups.  It’s still weird to you that they’re close, but you really can’t be mad that two of your favorite people are friends. It’s nice to have your brother and your best friend in the same place, actually. When you reach between them for a cup, they finally notice you. Clarke kisses your cheek sloppily. Bellamy shakes his head as you pour the alcohol, but doesn’t comment.

“Where’s Raven?” You hadn’t seen her in the living room. The question is posed for Clarke, but it’s Bellamy who answers you. “Her bed probably. That’s where she is most of the time.” Clarke smacks him on the back of the head and you’re not sure why. He seems to know, though. “I’ll go ask her if she wants to join us,” he says, rubbing the spot she hit. You think of Raven and how you’ve only seen glimpses of her since Movie Night despite the fact that you live in the same apartment.  “No, I’ll ask her.” They both look at you like you volunteered as tribute, which doesn’t give you a whole lot of confidence, but you don’t take back the offer.

 

It takes five knocks for her to shout that you can come in and you momentarily panic that you woke her, but you can see the light seeping from inside the room, so you enter cautiously. Raven is tucked away under the blankets cutely. She looks so young and small like that, covers pulled up to her chin. You wonder if she is sick, but she’s looking at you expectantly and she sort of makes you nervous, so you don’t ask.

 

“Everyone’s looking for you out there,” you say, even though it was mostly just you. “Come out for a bit. Just for one drink.”

Raven sighs.

“I’m not really in the mood.”

“For drinking? That’s fine. Just hang out with us.”

“Not in the mood for people,” she corrects you.

You cringe. “Sorry to bother you.”

Raven punches her arms out from under the covers as you try to quickly backtrack out of the room.

“Wait, wait, wait.” She beckons you over with the wave of her hand. “Will you bring me beer?”

What an asshole.

You cannot even feign annoyance because she’s pouting and her wide, playful eyes resemble the color of maple syrup a bit too much. So maybe you have a sweet tooth.

 

You’re stubborn, though, so you turn back when you reach the door, cock your head to the side, and ask her slyly, “what do I get in return?”

She scoffs and for some reason, that’s exactly the response you wanted.

 

“Fine. You can hang out with me in here for a little bit when you come back with my beer.”

“There are plenty of people out there for me to talk to.” You jab your finger toward the living room  to emphasize your point.

“Yes, but you came in here because you want to hang out with me.”

 

You want to wipe that cocky smile off her face. Challenging words are at the tip of your tongue, so when the words, “be right back” slip from your mouth, you are baffled. She looks as self-satisfied as ever.  

You make sure to at least slam the door.

 

“Is she coming?” Clarke hisses, practically leaping on you as soon as you step out of the room. You don’t get why she didn’t just come in. It’s her room. You shake your head and shrug, heading to the kitchen. She’s right on your heels though. “What did she say?”

“She doesn’t want to socialize tonight.”

Clarke groans.

“Yeah, well...she hasn’t wanted to socialize in months.” You think she only said that due to her near drunkenness because she slaps her hand over her mouth right afterward. “Forget I said that.”

 

You play along because she is worrying her bottom lip, the very picture of regret.

 

“Forget what?” You give her a trademark Octavia Blake wink. You’re not sure if it works, but Lexa meandering over and gently wrapping her hand around Clarke’s wrist certainly does. She’s immediately grinning and she lets Lexa drag her away to the couch.

 

You take your time in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of beer for Raven and pouring something harder for yourself. God forbid she thinks you hurried to get back to her. You catch Bellamy watching you gravely when you pass by the living room and you wonder when his protectiveness is going to stop feeling so damn suffocating. He gives a pointed look at the two drinks in your hands. You ignore it and reenter Clarke and Raven’s room, this time without knocking.

 

“Took you long enough.” She’s still in bed, but she has thrown the covers aside and is propped up against some pillows.  You bite your tongue and hand her the beer.  “This isn’t the brand I wanted.” You’re honestly about to slap her when her annoyed scowl slips into a wide grin and you realize she’s messing with you.  She laughs and it sounds really nice.

 

“You almost kicked my ass, didn’t you?”

You nod and she laughs some more. You know you’re smiling dumbly.

 

“Want to sit?” Before you get a chance to answer, she’s sliding to the far side of her bed to make room for you. “Sure.”

You stifle a laugh when she pulls the blanket back up over your waists.

“I didn’t realize this was a cuddling session.”

“You wish, guapa.”

“I know spanish.” You don’t, really, but you don't like how she always seems to have the upper hand.

She shrugs, unbothered.

"So...how's your leg?" 

Raven narrows her eyes slightly.

"It's great." Honestly, if she were anymore sarcastic, she'd be you. 

"Great."

 

Neither of you are exactly the type for small talk, but you barely know each other, so anything deeper is just uncomfortable for all parties involved.

You move to get up because you can only stand awkward silence for so long. She grabs your forearm, harder than she intends, you think.

"Where are you going?"

"Chill. I'm getting my computer." Her grip relaxes.

Unsurprisingly, Bellamy looks up at the sound of the door opening.  You flip him off and he rolls his eyes, but you see him smile a little. Maybe going to school together wouldn't be so bad. 

 

When you go back in, laptop in hand, Raven smirks and wiggles her eyebrows.

"Are we gonna watch porn together?"

You wonder how many eye rolls she has been responsible for thus far in her lifetime.

"No, ** _I'm_** watching SVU." She slaps the spot next to her again like she afraid you'll sit somewhere else. 

"Ah, the especially heinous offenses." 

"These are their stories," you say in the deepest, most masculine voice you can muster.

She snorts and moves closer, getting a better view of the screen. She smells like fresh laundry and some type of floral shampoo. You try not to think about that while someone is sobbing onscreen.

  

You've watched three episodes when Clarke and Lexa burst into the room, making out. Heavily. 

Lexa is the one who notices. She clears her throat, having to push Clarke off of her and point at you two for Clarke to stop groping her.

"Oh!" Clarke says, cheeks flushed with a mixture of alcohol, desire, and embarrassment.  "Are we interrupting something?"

Raven is about to argue, but you speak first: "Your hand was literally just on Lexa's boobs and you think we're being interrupted?" 

She nods slowly and stares at you and Raven like there's something she can't quite figure out.

"Right, well...we'll just...go to the other room." 

They're already gone, but you shout after them, much to Raven's amusement. 

"Stay away from my bed! And my desk! Lexa?! Clarke?!"

 


	3. 3

It becomes somewhat of a tradition. For the next two weeks, when you are Raven are both done with classes for the day, you watch TV in her bed. You’re not exactly friends yet, but you’re something close to it. You don’t talk much, but you share snacks and she laughs when you fall asleep during boring scenes. Unlike the first night, she chooses the shows.

Sometimes you don’t like what she has chosen, so you watch her watch instead. You like the slope of her nose, the perfect arch of her brows, and her dark eyelashes. You like how expressive her face is when she thinks no one is looking.

 

Clarke has asked you on several occasions what is going on between you and Raven, which is weird. You chalk it up to her concern for Raven’s health. You can see how she’s always watching her worriedly. Sort of how Bellamy watches you, but there’s more pain in her expression.

The night Clarke and Lexa invite you to go to a party with them and you turn them down in favor of staying with Raven, Clarke gives you a hard look before giving you a warning that you don’t know what to do with. “She’s really fucked up right now, Octavia. Don’t do anything stupid.” You have no idea what she even means and you say as much. What exactly is wrong with Raven and more importantly, what the hell does she think you’d do to her? Amputate her leg? Part of you wonders if even that might be a favor.

 

On days Raven has physical therapy, she’s extra grumpy. She wears a menacing scowl and breathes heavily, trying to mask that she is in an incredible amount of pain. You pretend not to notice. Physical therapy. It’s something she mentioned offhandedly and without elaboration one afternoon when Lexa and her returned home and you asked where they had been. Lexa drives her there three times a week. You’re not sure what the ultimate goal is, but you decide that based on the way you’ve seen her squeeze her forearm until her knuckles turn white, it’s not working.

 

Apparently, Raven agrees. Because one afternoon, when you tiredly slink into the apartment after a brutally long biology class, you accidentally walk in on her and Lexa arguing.

 

“I’m not going, so just forget it!”

 

They are in the kitchen and they don’t notice you come in, so you linger at the doorway, closing it gently behind you.

 

“Raven, be smart. You need this.”  

 

“I tried, Lexa. All I promised is that I’d try. And guess what? It didn’t work.” She lets out a humorless laugh.  “All it does is make the pain worse and exhaust me.”

 

“These things take time.” You hear the storm brewing in Lexa’s voice, but she keeps it at bay.

 

“Yeah, well...I’m not wasting any more time on this.”

 

Lexa sighs loudly.

 

“Fine.” She rushes out of the kitchen, ignoring you and hurriedly leaving the apartment. The door slams.

 

You walk very slowly to the kitchen, afraid of what state you’ll find Raven in.

 

You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t her sitting on the kitchen floor, back against the oven, staring blankly ahead.

 

“Hey.”

 

She stares up at you and doesn’t reply.

 

“What are you doing down there?”

 

“Pushups,” she deadpans, making you smile.

 

Her lips quirk up a little bit for just a second.  

 

“Mind if I join you?” She shrugs, so you drop down next to her.

 

You realize after several minutes that silences between you are no longer awkward . Maybe you _are_ friends. You’re still surprised when she speaks first.

 

“Are you done with classes for the day?”

 

You have one more in an hour, but you nod anyway. “Yeah.”

 

“Great. We’re starting early.”

 

You think she’s talking about watching a TV show, but she stands with great effort and pulls a bottle of vodka out of a refrigerator. She takes a sip and grimaces before setting it down beside you. You stare at the proffered bottle.

 

Go to class or drink vodka straight up. It’s a toss-up. The challenging smirk Raven throws you is the deciding factor. You uncap the bottle and press it to your lips. It burns.

 

“Disgusting.”

 

She chuckles and nods in agreement. Your eyes follow her as she moves to the living room and throws herself onto the couch with zero grace. Something about the way she groans when she pulls her leg up to prop it makes you remember all those pills she takes. You don’t know if she’s supposed to be drinking while on drugs, prescribed or not, so you leave the vodka on the counter and make a quick stop in your room for an alternative.

 

You find the big bag of candy in your desk drawer for desperate occasions (self bribery to study) and go to the living room, tossing it toward Raven. She throws her hands up, startled.

 

“What’s this?”

 

You don’t answer. You let her inspect the bag and look inside, eyes lighting up.

 

“Why do you have a giant bag of candy and why did you throw it at me?”

 

You shrug and sit beside her as she pulls a box of Dots out and quickly tears it open. You reach into the bag for a Kit-Kat. “It’s my guilty pleasure,” you finally answer. Raven gives you a soft smile. You almost don’t recognize her when she’s not being sarcastic and arrogant.

 

You’ll always blame that swig of vodka on what you say next.

 

“Why does Clarke keep asking me what’s going on between us?”

 

Raven reaches back into the candy bag and says slyly, “She probably thinks I’m trying to get in your pants.”

 

Suddenly, the Kit-Kat is lodged in your throat and you’re choking. Raven pats your back unhelpfully as you cough and you glare at her.

 

“That’s not funny,” you accuse through gasps.

 

“I wasn’t joking.”  You think she’s messing with you again, but she just stares back at you. Your chest constricts in what you can only assume is an extreme feeling of awkwardness that you cover with an easy smile.

 

“Oh.. are you?”  She quirks a brow confusedly, looking for elaboration. It’s your turn to be sly as you lean toward and her whisper wickedly, “trying to get in my pants.”

 

She answers by throwing the bag of candy at your face and you don’t stop laughing for for a solid two minutes. You only stop when she shoves you off the couch.

 

You lay on the floor for awhile, listening to Raven hum above you. Then she stops.

 

When you turn to look up at her, she’s back to staring blankly ahead like she had been earlier in the kitchen, but this time she doesn’t stay silent. “Today was a shit day.”

 

You nod sympathetically, heart aching at her defeated tone. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shakes her head.

 

“Well, do you want to know what I do when I’m having a bad day?” She nods and for a moment, she reminds you of a puppy. Wide eyed and expectant.

 

“I take a nap, so I can take a break from it and when I wake up, I can pretend it’s a new day. Clean slate.”

 

Raven considers it for a moment before standing up off the couch.

 

“Come on, then. Let’s nap.”

 

“My day was fine,” you argue as she pulls you up and tugs you toward her room, but naturally, she ignores you.

 

It’s not even something you think about anymore, how you climb into your respective side of the bed and let her pull the blankets over you both. You’re not tired at all, so you decide you’ll sneak out once she falls asleep.

 

She does so, almost immediately. You find yourself too comfortable and warm to move, though, so you decide not to risk waking the girl sleeping beside you. She slowly shifts closer to you, curling up. She looks more peaceful than you’ve ever seen her and you wonder if sleep is the only time she doesn’t feel any pain at all.

 

You are pulled from your thoughts when the door opens and Clarke walks in, glancing at you both before kindly shutting off the light.  

 

“Shouldn’t you be in class?”  Clarke asks quietly. You tell her it was cancelled and she looks suspicious, but turns to leave the room.

 

“Clarke” you hiss, trying to regain her attention without speaking louder than a whisper. She walks back over.

“Why are you under the impression Raven wants to get into my pants?”

 

She looks conflicted for a moment before answering. “Well you’re very hot, O, but I’m actually under the impression you want to get into **hers**.”

 

You gape up at her.

 

“ _Why_?”

 

She gives a very pointed look to where Raven is tucked into your side, so you follow her line of sight. That’s when you realize you are running your hands through her untamed hair, lightly scratching at her scalp. You pull away as if burned, but she hums and reaches for your hand to put it back. Your pulse quickens.   

  
Shit.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the really kind feedback! :)

You really wish you hadn’t asked Clarke that question or that she would have lied to you or _something_ because now everything with Raven feels weird. You wish this was just the first time Clarke has had to tell you when you like someone. It’s not something you’re used to.

 

It’s just a crush, though. You’ve had them before, not on someone you live with, but you’ve had them. You find her attractive is all. It doesn’t have to be a thing. Except now whenever Raven invites you into her bed, you think of what Clarke said and you get awkward. You make sure there’s a little extra space between you. You force a laugh when she laughs at whatever is playing because you’re not paying attention anymore. You make an excuse to leave before it gets too late and she, god forbid, falls asleep on you again. So maybe you’re attracted to her. It’s inconvenient, but it’ll pass.

 

Friday comes around and this time you take Clarke up on her offer to go to a party with her and Lexa. It’s not to necessarily to avoid Raven. You just figure watching TV together every single night is a bit much and you’ve barely met anyone outside of class yet. Clarke, Lexa, Raven, and Bellamy are pretty much the only people you’ve been in consistent contact with in the two months you’ve been at school. It’s time for you to branch out. Make some friends.

 

You’re almost done getting ready when Raven comes into your room, flopping onto Lexa’s bed. You’re not even a little surprised that she didn’t knock. She slowly appraises your admittedly risque outfit and your braided hair. “What’s all this? You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me.”  She grins lewdly. You watch her in the reflection of your mirror, putting your eyeliner down for the time being.

 

“I’m going out tonight.”

“I figured,” she says, and she’s not smiling anymore.

“Come with us. Clarke, Lexa, and I.”   

 

You figure she won’t go, but you should at least offer. It’s the polite thing to do. At least, you thought it was, yet she’s looking at you like you insulted her, lips pulled into a taut line.

 

“I’m good.”

You nod, not wanting to push it.  

 

“What are your plans for tonight?” You mean it as a nicety. Raven stares at you for a moment before getting up to leave. You’re at a loss. She stops at the door and doesn’t bother turning around to face you while answering softly.  

“I’m doing the same thing I do every night, Octavia.”  

  
Then she’s gone.

 

You almost stay behind, you’re so taken aback by the whole interaction. Raven sounded really sad. You wonder if this has something to do with the emotional baggage Clarke alluded to before you met. You wonder if you hurt her feelings somehow. Maybe you should go and check on her.

 

Just as you’re about to knock on her door, Clarke and Lexa come stumbling out of the room. You hear the tail end of Clarke making sure that Raven is sure she doesn’t want to come.

 

“Is she okay?” You gesture toward the now closed door 

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Lexa asks, perplexed. You shrug.

 

You follow them out, still thinking about the wounded look on Raven’s face and what you did to cause it.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

He’s all dark hair and light eyes, with a handsomely chiseled jaw line. That’s good enough for you. He says his name is Atom and you think his name is Adam for the first half of the party, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him much considering you aren’t doing much talking. It’s Clarke who corrects you as you’re refilling your beer.

 

“Adam is hot, right?”

“A _tom_ is very hot, yes. Very hot.” Lexa narrows her eyes at Clarke and takes a step away from where she was practically glued to her side.

“...But look at how hot this girl is. Way hotter.” She pulls Lexa back into her and Lexa tries to fight a smile.

“Good save,” you say through a laugh, making your way back to Adam. Atom.

 

It’s a big affair, this party. You didn’t expect as much since you transferred from a significantly bigger school. It’s an off campus apartment, so there is loud music, lots of people, and copious amounts of alcohol. This rivals any party you’ve been to before.

 

Atom is seated alone on a couch that had three other people on it before you went for that refill. He smirks at you in a way that lets you know that he told those people to move and why. His lips are on yours before you’re fully seated and it’s not the first time tonight. You almost pull back to make a joke about his eagerness and just barely refrain.

 

When his lips move to your neck, you set down your cup and run your hands in his hair, letting yourself enjoy the moment. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten action of any sort. He’s not the worst or best kisser. It’s all very average. Average enough for you to space out when his lips move back to yours, just kissing back just on instinct. You’re not sure what’s missing. You wonder if you have grown out of random makeout sessions at parties with random hot guys. That would be quite tragic. When you feel his hands start to grope at your chest, you stand suddenly. He frowns up at you. “What’s wrong?”

 

In your head, you run through a list of viable reasons for you to not be making out with him anymore. ‘I just realized I’m a lesbian’ is the top choice, but you settle for “sorry, I’m here to be with my friends.”

 

He sighs, disappointed. “Can I at least get your number?”

You motion for him to hand you his phone. You put in Clarke’s number and turn to walk away before he catches you laughing evilly.

 

You feel a bit lost until someone waves you over to a group of people. You recognize him as Jasper from the gathering that night before classes started. As expected, his friend Monty is standing right beside him. Seated on the couch nearby are Murphy, Lincoln, and Bellamy. “Where’s Clarke?” You ask Bellamy. He points to the stairs and offers a wry smile. From that, you can only assume that she and Lexa found a bedroom to get some action of their own.

 

So much for hanging with friends. You’re disappointed for about ten seconds, but Bellamy pulls you down to sit on the arm of the couch and hands you another drink. It’s shocking, but he quickly tacks on a lesson about not taking drinks from any guy except for him. Now that’s the Bell you know.

 

Lincoln asks you about your major. You bond over your mutual passion for fitness. He is a personal trainer and his major is kinesiology. For most of the conversation, you’re staring at his muscles. You agree on being gym buddies and make plans to go on a run together. You give him your actual number, much to Bellamy’s dismay. “Chill,” you assure him, “as gorgeous as Lincoln here is, gym buddies doesn’t mean sex buddies.” Lincoln blushes and Bellamy splutters, getting up to get some harder liquor.

 

Clarke and Lexa join the group about an hour later, both looking disheveled and happy.

 

“What happened to Atom?” Lexa asks you.

“Clarke was right about him.”  She tilts her head to the side, confused, waiting for you to elaborate.

“He wasn’t as hot as you.”

She squeaks when you grab her face and plant a short peck on her lips. She shoves you away and looks to Clarke in absolute horror.

“I  just cheated on you.” She looks so genuinely upset.

 

Clarke punches you lightly in the arm as you cackle, but you see that she’s trying not to laugh herself.

“You didn’t cheat on me, Lex.” She gives Lexa a reassuring hug.

 

“Am I the best kiss you’ve ever had?” You ask after a moment, pushing your luck.

 Lexa groans and buries her face in Clarke’s hair.

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

During the first half of the cab ride back, the three of you laugh until you cry about something that you won’t remember in the morning. During the second half, Clarke and Lexa make out and you take selfies you will delete in the morning.

 

Clarke and Lexa have already gone up to the apartment by the time you finish paying the cab driver. Once inside, you have a glass of water and brush your teeth, thinking you’ll call it a night since it’s pretty late. Early. When you try to go into your room, though, the door is locked and you hear kissing and giggling on the other side.

 

You go for the only other option.

 

The door swings open after a few knocks and Raven is standing there, looking murderous.

.

“What the hell? It’s three in the morning, Octavia.”

 

She rubs at her eyes, trying to adjust to the light and you almost forget to reply because all she’s wearing is a really big tee shirt that stops at her thighs. Your eyes trail down. Her now braceless leg has a long, thin scar on it, right along her shin. It’s sort of lovely. You snap to attention when she clears her throat.

 

“Clarke and Lexa are having sex in my room again.” You let out a too-loud laugh and then slap your hand over your mouth to stop it.

 

Raven rolls her heavy-lidded eyes and sighs, but opens the door further to let you in.

 

“You can stay in Clarke’s bed tonight.”

 

Her eyes are fighting to stay open. It’s really cute.   _She looks really pretty._

 

“Thanks, but that’s not going to make me any happier about being woken up at 3 AM.”

 

You said that last part out loud.

 

All you can do is laugh because you’re drunk and she’s glaring at you, pushing you toward Clarke’s bed so she can go back to hers. You redirect yourself to Clarke’s dresser first, though, grabbing a tee shirt and pajama shorts. Raven turns the light back off right just as you start to take your shirt of.

 

“Your loss,” you remark and you hear her let out a breathy laugh.

 “Yeah, yeah” is her sarcastic reply, “just let me sleep.”

 

You lay on Clarke’s bed for a minute, thoughts racing. You realize something.

 

“Raven,” you say.  She doesn’t answer, but you know she couldn’t possibly be back to sleep already so you say it again. Five times.

 “What?” Her voice is partially muffled by the pillow her face against.

 “I have to pee really, really bad.”

 “Why does that have anything to do with me?”

 

You have to think about that one for a minute.

 “Oh.”

 

She throws a pillow at you as you climb out of the bed to go to the bathroom. It’s impressive considering it’s pitch black and you’re a moving object. You tell her as much, but she shushes you.When you return only a minute later, she’s snoring lightly.

 You’re still drunk enough to think getting into her bed is a better idea than getting into Clarke’s. A warm bed is always better. You are super stealthy and Raven barely stirs beside you. You smile when she unconsciously turns her body toward yours and you let yourself move closer, too.

 You wake up having to pee again, head pounding, and momentarily confused about where you are. You know it’s still early because light is only just starting to seep in through the window. You try to extricate yourself from the covers without stirring the girl beside you, but something stops you. You feel a blush rise up your neck when you recognize what the resistance is. You must've faced away from Raven at some point in your sleep because she now has a hold of of the back hem of your shirt. _Clarke’s_ shirt. She’s got it wrapped in her fist, a tight grip even while sleeping. Her knuckles graze skin of your lower back when you try to pull away and you shiver. She doesn’t let go for another hour. You know this because you almost pee your pants for that entire time. When she finally mumbles something, releases her hold, and flips to a different position, you let out a breath of relief. Maybe there’s a little disappointment too, but you’re too busy running to the bathroom to dwell on it.

 

Having peed enough to remind you just how much you drank, you grab your phone from the kitchen counter and check the time. Still way too early. You check your bedroom door and it’s not locked anymore, but you’re too hungover to deal with witnessing any naked spooning, so you sneak back into Raven’s room. You go to Clarke’s bed this time and sleep until eleven.

 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

The four of you are in the kitchen eating breakfast. Clarke apologizes for you being banished from your own room and promises it will never happen again. Lexa nods in agreement, looking sheepish. You brush it off.

 

“It’s fine. I just slept in your bed, Clarkey. It was nice and cozy.”

Raven makes a humming noise in response and you all look over at her.

“Really? ‘Cause I could have sworn there was a brunette in my bed when I woke up at one point.”

  
You spit your cereal all over the counter.


	5. 5

They turned the heating on in the dorms and apartments, too soon in your opinion. It’s November, but it’s quite a mild month so far. You think you’re melting every time you enter a building.

You’re sprawled on the floor next to Raven’s bed, highlighting important terms in your textbook. She’s lying her bed, reading about bombs on her laptop. You’re at least 80% sure she’s on the FBI terrorist watch list. “I’m not going to _build_ one,” she argues when you tell her this.  “They’re just fascinating.”

  
She’s a huge nerd, you’ve learned. If you bring up anything science-related, like physics or chemistry, she will lecture you about it until you tell her to stop. Even when you tell her to stop, she might keep going. It’s never guaranteed. You still tend to encourage it occasionally because she gets really excited and starts gesturing so wildly with her hands, she almost hits you or anyone in the vicinity in the face. It’s pretty endearing.

After the party that resulted in you sleeping in her bed, things went back to normal. You haven’t gone to any other parties and you don’t really have any strong interest in doing so. You had a good time, but it feels like you have partying out of your system for now. Who would have thought? Octavia Blake, party animal, now prefers to stay in and have low key evenings. Maybe it’s the company you’re keeping.

Speaking of which, you have the heat to thank for Raven’s bare legs hanging off the bed, so you can’t be all that mad. She’s in a tank top and boxer shorts. You admire her long, toned legs. It must be too hot to wear her brace or maybe it’s uncomfortable to wear with no fabric between. Either way, you’re grateful. You sit up, and without thinking, reach out to trace the vertical scar on her shin with your finger tip. Raven makes a startled sound that makes you pull back, slightly flustered.  

 

“You felt that?” She nods, smiling a little.

“Yeah. The feeling is almost completely back. I’ve still got nerve damage, but my doctor said that it’s just the motor nerves that need work now.”

 

You don’t know what to say, but you also don’t want to discourage her from talking about it. Luckily, she continues without any prompting.

 

“It was just a car accident. I know Clarke probably made it out to be some huge thing.”

You shake your head. “Clarke hasn’t said anything.”

She looks at you like she doesn’t quite believe you. You just stare up at her until she nods slowly, clearing her throat.

 

“A tractor trailer lost control and took out a couple of cars, including mine. I thought I had gotten away with just a concussion and a few cuts, but when the paramedics were pulling me from the car, they realized there was some debris digging into my back. They said I was lucky it was just the one leg that was paralyzed from how messed up my spine was, but I didn’t feel very lucky.”

 

It hurts to hear. It hurts to picture. Her tone stays light, but you can see the pain on her face. You want to climb up on the bed and pull her into an infinite hug. Instead, you look back to the scar and lean in to inspect it further.

“If it was your spine that got injured, what’s this scar here from? The debris?”

Raven closes her eyes, takes a deep breath in, and shakes her head.

“Sometimes when you’re really desperate, you do stupid things.”

You hold your breath.

“I got sick of not feeling anything, so I took a pocket knife to my leg. I still didn’t feel anything.” She dodges your eyes and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. You feel sick to your stomach, but you refuse to let it show on your face.

 

“I’m so sorry,” you finally say.

 

“It’s whatever. I’m just going to take awhile to fix.” She shrugs it off in typical Raven Reyes fashion, but you don’t let her get away with it. You watch her eyes widen, almost comically, as you reach out again to trail your hand down her injured leg. You ghost your fingertips from her knee down to wrap loosely around her ankle, goosebumps rising in your wake.

 

“You’re not broken,” you say, voice thick.

Her eyes lock with yours. She closes her laptop and leans forward into a sitting position, grabbing your hand from where it’s holding onto her. You think she’s going to either shove your it away or drop it.

Your breathing picks up and you watch, dazed, as she tangles her fingers with your own and lets your joined hands rest against her thigh. Her hand is soft and warm in your own. You hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Must be the heat. 

 

“Do you have any scars?” She asks quietly, in a tone you’ve never heard from her before.

 

You hesitate for only a moment before pulling up your shirt with your free hand to reveal the light splotches on your otherwise tanned side.  “Bellamy was watching me while our mom was out, as per usual. I wanted mac and cheese. He wouldn’t come out of his room, so I decided I could make it for myself. I spilled the boiling water. Only a little bit got on me, but he felt terrible.”

 

“He should have. What a dick,” Raven says bluntly and you laugh and her look of hostility. She reaches out with her own free hand lets it hover near your side, but then closes her hand into a fist and places it back on the bed resolutely.

 

You’re glad she doesn’t trace your scars like you did hers because you think you might have died if she did.

You drop your shirt down when Raven releases your hand to pull her laptop back over and continue her unique researching as if nothing happened between you. You swallow your disappointment and resume your sprawled position on the floor with your textbook. Slowly, your heart rate returns to normal.

 

“Nice excuse to show me your abs,” Raven says after several minutes of quiet. You laugh and look up to throw her a wink.

“I was doing you a favor.”

She pretends to gag. Idiot.

 

“Shit,” you yelp, checking your phone. “I was supposed to meet Lincoln on the green fifteen minutes ago. I gotta go.”  Raven simply blinks up at you as you stand up, dog-ear the page you’re on, and text a quick apology.

“You sure have been spending a lot of time with Lincoln.” She says it like she’s suggesting something, but you play dumb because it’s silly considering you spend most of your time with _her_.

“He’s basically a personal trainer that I don’t have to pay for. It’s awesome. We’re going for a run. It’s going to kick my ass. He can run for so much longer than me and one of his strides is like five of mine. See ya later.”

 

You go to leave, but stop in your tracks when it hits you and spin around to face her.

 

You’re practically rubbing your ability to go out and do whatever you want in her face. You must look as guilty as you feel because Raven scoffs and points at the door.

“It’s _fine_ , Octavia. Go.”

You do, but only because you’re late. It has nothing to do with her commanding tone. She can’t tell you what to do.

                               

\----------------------------------------

 

Lincoln offers a charming smile when you jog over to him and waves off your apology.

 

“I was thinking we could do a few laps around campus and then see how we feel,” he says.

“Sound good,” you reply, cringing on the inside. You retie your laces, stretch a little bit, and then you’re off.

 

You’re getting fitter. You can tell because this is somewhere around your tenth or eleventh run together and you’re easily keeping up for once...or maybe he’s going slower. Lincoln likes to converse while you run, which you wouldn’t mind in any other setting considering he is very intelligent and kind, but you’re trying to focus on your breathing.

 

“We missed you at the party this past weekend. What were you up to?”

You take a big gulp of crisp air before answering.

“I just stayed in with Raven. You know her, right? Studied a bit. Netflixed a bit.”

 

He replies calmly and easily as if he isn’t otherwise occupied at all.

“Yeah. I know Raven. It’s a shame about her bad leg.”  

 

You feel inexplicably defensive. Even if her leg was still paralyzed and even she were to never recover, you think to yourself, there still would be nothing _bad_ about Raven.  “Her leg isn’t _bad_.”

 

He stumbles over his words before correcting himself.

“No, you’re right! You’re right. I just meant it’s a shame about the accident.”

 

You acknowledge his statement with a noncommittal hum.

He changes the subject.

 

It’s only when you’re sitting side by side in the grass and you’re chugging down a water bottle that he brings her up again.

“She’s a runner, too, you know?”

You shake your head. You’re not surprised based on her build and admirable figure, but you don’t say that.

“I used to see her in the gym.” He flashes his perfect teeth. “She’d run on the treadmill for what seemed like hours. She lifted, too. Way more than you’d expect. Put lots of my buddies to shame.”

You feel a rush of pride, picturing a confident Raven quirking her brow at a bro who challenged her and embarrassing him in a surprising show of strength. You hope to see that someday. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of unmistakable feminine giggling. You turn and spot a group of girls nearby speaking quickly and quietly to each other, eyes darting to over where you and Lincoln are sitting. It's pretty obvious they're talking about you. "What's that all abou---" you turn to face Lincoln and he must have decided to take off his shirt while you were lost in your thoughts because he's now standing above you, looking like a damn model with his perfect muscles. "It's November," you tell him, rolling your eyes. "Now go get one of those girls' phone numbers or this whole outing was a waste of my time."  He just laughs. 

\---------------------------------------

 

You're not sure what it is that possesses you, but as soon as you enter the kitchen and see Raven leaning against the refrigerator, drinking directly out of the milk carton, you rush over to her and throw your arms around her shoulders. She quickly drops the carton on the counter with a 'thud' as you drag her body into yours. 

“Gross. You smell like sweat,” she says, but she wraps her arms around your waist to return the hug anyway, not questioning your sudden affection. You've never hugged her before. The weight of her arms on your hips makes your pulse quicken and something in your chest starts to scratch to get out. You allow yourself to turn your head from where it rests in the crook of her neck. The stray hairs that escaped from her messy ponytail tickle your nose in not such a bad way. 

“You smell like flowers.” You feel her chuckle as much as you hear it. 

"You could too if only you showered.”

The two of you stay like that for maybe a minute before she starts to lean forward, putting more of her weight on you so she can rest her leg.  To accommodate, you lean back.

When you hear the front door open and the sound of jingling keys comes closer, your instinct tells you to pull back and act natural. Raven must have a similar idea idea in mind because without discussing it, you spring apart and move to opposite sides of the kitchen. She's putting the milk carton into the fridge and you're plopping down onto a chair at the table when Clarke enters. 

"Hello, my loves!" 

It doesn't occur to you until you catch Raven watching you with a curious look on her face as Clarke recounts the story of a crazy old man who poses nude for one her art classes... Friends don't usually hide the fact that they've been hugging each other from other friends. 


	6. 6

It’s the Monday before Thanksgiving break and your professors seem to be punishing you for it. It’s barely a break, just Thursday to the following Monday. Most people are going home, but Bellamy and you are staying on campus. Home is on the opposite side of the country and it’s not like either of you consider your mother real family anyway. It’s always been just you two, so why not just stick around and have your own little Thanksgiving here? You’ll probably order in though because neither of you can cook to save your life.

Because most of your professors are trying to fit a whole lot of content into the last three day, you’re pleasantly surprised when your Human Physiology professor, a stout and soft spoken older gentlemen, lets class out a half hour early. Bless his heart. Most of your classmates are out of their seats before he even finishes the sentence. You gather your things, trying to remember your roommates’ Monday schedules. It’s 1:15. You think Clarke and Lexa have class right now, but not Raven. With that in mind, you stop to pick up a coffee and head back to the apartment. You cannot stomach that shit, but she’s rather partial to it.

As expected, it’s quiet when you enter. You carelessly toss your backpack on the couch and head to Raven’s room, but when you go to turn the knob, it’s doesn’t budge. It’s locked. That’s a first. “Raven?” You ask, knocking softly.

You hear the sound of frantic movement on the other side of the door and then a guy’s voice asking “who’s that?” Raven’s reply is muffled, but you hear it clear enough. “Just my roommate. Ignore her.”  

You pour her coffee out in the kitchen sink.

Pacing around your bedroom, you’re filled with the kind of energy that would have had you punching walls, or people, years ago. You’ve grown up, though. The anger you’re feeling is irrational, you tell yourself, and the sickening twist in your stomach is just hunger. You curl up on your bed, pull on your headphones, and play music as loud as your phone allows. You try to will yourself not to think of the anonymous man in Raven’s room and what they’re doing in there. You fail, and begin imagining the phantom sounds of creaking springs and panting. Your brain conjures up images you do not want to see. A big rough, hand running down her leg like yours did, but without the same care. A name dragged from Raven’s lips like a prayer. A name that isn’t yours. Wait, what?

Lexa comes in no more than an hour later and lifts a single brow in greeting. You pause the music and give her a nod. “‘Sup?”

She shrugs. You are the masters of using as few words as possible in communicating with each other. You could go days without actually talking to each other. You have, in fact.

“I’m hungry,” you offer, having nothing else to really say, but Lexa’s face lights up like you made her remember something.

“Clarke and I were wondering if you and Bellamy would like to come with us to my friend Anya’s apartment for Thanksgiving.”

“You’re not going home?” You ask, confused.

“Clarke is my home,” Lexa answers without missing a beat, then blushes. “I don’t really have a family besides Anya and Clarke doesn’t want to go all the way home for only four days. Less than that if you include the travel time.”

You nod, understanding.

“I’ll have to check with Bellamy, but that sounds pretty nice, actually.”

Lexa smiles kindly. “There’s leftover pizza in the fridge.”

You leap out of bed and run to the kitchen, but make sure to holler over your shoulder so that she can hear you loud and clear. “Let me know when you’re finally leaving Clarke for me, babe.”  

Lexa doesn’t answer, but you’re sure she’s rolling her eyes.

“Did I hear my name?” Clarke says, throwing the apartment door open in a dramatic fashion. It startles you so much that you almost drop the box of pizza. Like clockwork, Lexa comes out of your room to greet her girlfriend. She wraps herself around Clarke as if for protection and says, scandalized, “Octavia keeps hitting on me.”

Clarke just gives you a toothy grin over her shoulder. “Nice.”

You both laugh at Lexa’s look of horror. So maybe you laugh a little louder than necessary, but you tell yourself it’s not because you hope Raven hears you. You pull a two slices of pizza out and take a bite of one, not bothering to heat it first.

“Did you ask her,” Clarke speaks into Lexa’s ear, who nods obediently in response. You assume she’s talking about Thanksgiving at Anya’s.

“So how ‘bout it?” She’s looking at you now, all wide-eyed and impatient. Your heart kind of swells at her enthusiasm, like maybe she’s asking out of genuinely wanting you there and not just to be nice.

“As long as Bellamy is cool with it.” She squeals and lets go of Lexa to pull you into a bone shattering hug. You let her hug you, but your hands are busy holding pizza slices to return it fully.

“Now we just have to ask Raven.”

Raven. Your smile drops. The sick feeling is back and you can no longer attribute it to hunger. Honestly, the idea of Clarke interrupting them seems like a good idea, but you really don’t want to have to see him. Or Raven, for that matter. So, when she starts to walk toward the room, you blurt out, “Wait!” Clarke turns, waiting for you to continue.

“She has...company.”

Clarke’s eyes narrow dangerously and she hisses, “It better not be--”

“Clarke.” Lexa cuts her off, voice tight, but it’s too late. There’s no stopping her. Clarke is rushing over to the door and knocking heavily. You wince at the sound.

“Finn, if you’re in there, I’m going to kick your ass!”

The door swings open after only a moment, exposing a positively furious Raven, clad in only a purple bathrobe. She glares at Clarke with an intensity that makes you feel like someone should step between them. Someone. Not you, of course. You’re far too young to die. Lexa looks just as bewildered as you feel, though.

“What the _hell_ , Clarke?”

Clarke ignores Raven’s protests and pushes past her, entering the room. You hear the guy say something and they exchange a few words, but it’s too quiet to make out. Before you can really process it, she’s roughly pulling him out by his wrist. He’s still only in boxers and the rest of his clothes are crumpled up under his arm. It seems that she didn’t give him time to grab his shoes.

What the hell did he _do_?

This Finn, you hate to admit, is handsome in a boyish kind of way, long wavy hair down to his shoulders. If you’re into that kind of thing. He’s not nearly handsome enough to be with Raven, but certainly that’s not why Clarke is looking like an attack dog who has found an intruder: vicious and alert.

Finn lets Clarke pull him along and gives one last sheepish look over his shoulder before she pulls opens the door and pushes him out. The door slams and you look to Clarke for explanation. Another door slams, but this time it’s Raven’s.

It all plays out so quickly. You don’t even know what to think.

 

“What...the hell...was that?”

 

\----------------------------

 

The tension in the air lasts for days. Clarke stays in your room both Monday and Tuesday night. You see only glimpses of Raven. She makes herself scarce. You’re kind of glad of it because despite all the drama swarming around you, you’re stuck on, “ **just my roommate. Ignore her**.” It situates itself in the front of your brain, replaying over and over again until you’re bitter and you’re still not even sure why. Maybe you thought you meant more than that.

From what little information Lexa has divulged, Finn is Raven’s ex-boyfriend. He ended things, she’s not sure why. Whatever the context was, he is apparently Clarke’s sworn enemy. He’s your sworn enemy too, but for different reasons. Like his stupid hair.

Wednesday arrives and you’re not sure if things have blown over or if it’s just the calm before the storm. Bellamy, as expected, was open to the idea of spending Thanksgiving among friends. You’re looking forward to the holiday for one of the first times.

You walk in from your last class, ready to spend the next four days stuffing your face with the people you love and avoiding all the assignments you have to do.

Alas, any ideas of relaxation float away as you enter the kitchen to find Clarke and Raven seated at opposite ends of the table in terse silence. Raven wipes furiously at her eyes to hide the fact that she’s been crying. You know you’re intruding, but the look on her face positively _kills_ you and so your body moves to her at its own accord. Neither of them seems to understand why you didn’t retreat upon realizing your interruption. You’re not really sure either because while you’re a pretty badass woman, they can both be pretty scary.

 

Without thinking, you reach your hand out to place it on Raven’s shoulder, but that’s when you see Clarke’s face. She’s watching you intently, eyes just as glossy as Raven’s. You retract your hand before it looks like you’re choosing sides. At least neither of them looks pissed off anymore. Best to stay out of it. You start to back out and let them carry on their conversation in private, but Clarke grabs tightly onto your wrist to stop you.

 

“Tell Raven she deserves better than a cheating ex that left her when she needed him most.”  The worst are spit like venom. Raven scoffs.

You open your mouth.  “Uh…”

It feels like a trap. You look between them. “Don’t get Octavia involved. It’s not fair to her,” Raven says, just as you find the words. She looks up at you. Your throat feels dry and her lips are pursed so pretty.

“You deserve better.”  Her brown eyes search yours.

You turn away, thinking of Finn kissing her pretty lips, “but I’m ‘just your roommate’ so what do I know?”   

 

You walk out before she can respond.

 

\------------------------------

 

It sits heavy like a weight on your chest.

Lexa comes into your room that evening and tells you what Clarke told her about the conversation: They had talked it out, agreeing that it wasn’t Clarke’s place to cross that line and that it was also a bad decision by Raven. Raven forgave Clarke for being overprotective and intrusive, knowing it came from a place of love.

That’s all a relief to hear, but what you really want to know is if what Clarke implied about Finn was true. Lexa nods solemnly when you ask her.

“He had been seeing other girls for awhile. He broke up with her soon after the accident. Too much to handle, apparently.”

Now, Clarke’s behavior makes complete sense. You clench your jaw, biting down harsh words. Instead, you pose another question. “Why would she want to get back with him, especially after knowing he cheated?”

“She didn’t. She _doesn’t_. She said she just wanted to feel wanted. She’s been really lost lately and Finn is...familiar. Someone from before it happened. Look, I shouldn’t be telling you this. Clarke swore me to secrecy.”

You nod, instantly regretting how cold you were with Raven earlier on. It was petty. Like she meant anything harmful by referring to you as her roommate. You _are_ her roommate. Lexa cocks her head to the side in confusion when you smack your palm against your forehead.

 

“I was kind of an ass to Raven earlier.”

“Why?”

“I really don’t know.”

 

Lexa smiles in a way that makes you feel like she knows more than you do. It’s annoying. “Well, you better figure it out by tomorrow because she is coming to Anya’s too.”

 

\------------------------

 

You don’t actually get around to talking to Raven that night. It’s not like you didn’t have the time. You didn’t have the guts.

So when Thursday morning comes around, you don’t expect to be woken up by Lexa, Clarke, and Raven all standing over you, bickering incessantly.

“ _You_ wake her!”

“Hell no. She almost broke my nose last time I tried that.”  You smirk, head still buried beneath a pillow.

“Well we have to start cooking soon!”

You sit up quickly, throwing off your covers. You’re barely awake and so this action makes your head throb unpleasantly, yet the three shrieks you receive as reward are well worth it.

“Oh good. You’re up,” Clarke says nonchalantly, like she didn’t almost just pee her pants. “We’re due at Anya’s in a few hours and we’re in charge of rolls, veggies, and some other side dishes.”

The three of them are looking you expectantly, so you groan.

“What do you want from me?” You know you sound childish, but you don’t cook and you really enjoy sleep. Clarke glares at you, so you try a different approach.

“I’ll be the taste tester.”

“Try again.”

You look to Lexa and she just smiles like Clarke is a delight when she’s actually a demon.

“Ugh. Fine. Let me get dressed."

This seems to appease them since they turn to leave you. Raven is the last to walk out and so you call out her name before the door closes.

She peeks her head back in hesitantly.  “Yeah?”

You tap your bed, beckoning her over. She comes, hesitantly climbing in beside you. You’ve missed this. Her warmth. Her presence in general.

“We’ve never done this in your bed before.” She seems nervous.

“That’s what she said.” She scrunches up her nose like you’re gross. You are.

Her face shifts from joking to serious as you turn your body toward her. The look on your face must give you away.

“Sorry I was weird yesterday.” She blanches and you know she hates talking about feelings as much as you do.

“It’s fine. Whatever. We’re good.”  

You don’t want to let her go so easy, though. Something about knowing she slept with a completely unworthy asshole because she wanted to feel wanted really nags at you. Raven is stunning, even now, _especially_ now, in ambiguously stained pajamas and her hair a tangled mess. That’s what makes you lean close and tell her, facing inches apart.  

 

“You’re really beautiful.”

  
You exhale it more than you say it because no one has ever made you feel this shy and because you’ve never seen her up this close before. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly and you’d take satisfaction in the flush growing on her cheeks if you weren’t blushing yourself.

She ducks her head, but then your eyes meet again and she reaches out to tenderly run her fingertips along the sharp line of your jaw, stopping just at your ear and then moving back down to your chin. You try to play it cool, but you know your breath is coming out choppy and tight. At the same time, though, you’re somehow sure that you’ll have a harder time breathing if she stops.

A loud knock on the door has you turning your head so quick in its direction that you might have whiplash. “Hurry up, Octavia,” Clarke hollers.

Raven’s hand jerks away and she is out of your bed and out of the room before you can formulate words. You were right. It is harder to breathe now.

 

Your movements are sluggish as you get dressed, not out of tiredness, but instead from the overwhelming and unfamiliar flutter in your chest.

When you finally enter the kitchen, Clarke and Lexa are standing side by side at the counter, peeling potatoes. Raven is at the table, kneading dough. She glances up at you, but then quickly goes back to work. There is flour all over the table and smudged across her face. It makes you smile.

 

Clarke clears her throat. She’s looking at you all funny.

“What?”

“Nothing, just start chopping the asparagus.”

You do as you’re told, but you keep catching her stealing glances at you. It's very suspect. Two hours later, when the food is packed up and you’re halfway out the door, Clarke tugs you back in. Lexa and Raven are already in the car waiting.

“Holy shit,” is all she says, like you know exactly what she’s talking about. You shrug out of her grip, annoyed.

“‘Holy shit’ _what_?”

  
“You’re in love with her.”


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> keep donating to this amazing cause: https://www.classy.org/fundraise?fcid=625415

"Why would you say that,” you managed to splutter out. Clarke rolls her eyes and you hate her just a little bit. _Love_? That’s absurd.

“You look at her like you’re half infatuated with her and half scared of her because of how infatuated you are with her. Sound familiar?”

You scoff even though her words make your chest ache because it hits a little too close to home. So maybe you are scared of her, of what she could do to you if you let her, but you’re just friends so you don’t have to worry about that.

“Do you remember Alex from Junior year of high school? You look at her like that.”

“ _Alex_?” You practically snarl his name. “You’re really going to go there?”

Clarke puts her hands up like a shield.

“He did end up being a complete toolbox, yes, but you can’t deny that you fell for him.”

“I definitely did not look at him like I was scared of him. If anything, he was scared of _me_.”

“Exactly.”  You scoff again.

“That literally makes no sense.”

You take a step through the doorway to try to escape her, but she drags you back in.

“Listen to me. If you look at Raven more intensely than you looked at your first and only love, what do you think that could mean?”

 

You pretend to be pondering that question and so she let’s her guard down, releasing her hold on you. Before she can realize her mistake, you shove her back, more roughly than you intend, then sprint out the door to the car. The very picture of maturity.

 

Clarke’s words really start to eat at you, though. When you’re halfway to Anya’s apartment, Lexa clears her throat, trying to shatter the silence. She looks at you in the rear view mirror and you just shrug. Clarke is in the passenger seat beside her, but she has turned her body completely so that she’s peering over the back of her own seat, glaring at you. Raven is beside you, glancing between you and Clarke.

“What’s up, Clarke?” She asks hesitantly.

“Oh, nothing Raven.” Her hardened eyes don’t leave you. “Octavia is just a little bitch.”

“It’s Thanksgiving!” Lexa shouts nervously, keeping one hand on the wheel and placing the other on Clarke’s knee to try to calm her down.

You ball your hands up into fists and turn to look out the window because if you keep looking at Clarke, you think you might punch something. You feel another set of eyes on you, though, so you turn to look at Raven. Her wide eyes are trained on your clenched fists. You immediately open your hands up and let them rest palm up in your lap. You do it so as not to worry or frighten her, but she must think otherwise because after a moment, she reaches out and puts one of her hands on top of yours so that you are palm to palm. You release a pathetically shaky breath at her touch. And because you _are_ a little bitch, you immediately turn to look back out the window and hide your face. Raven interlaces your fingers and your brain stops functioning properly. All you can think is ‘you’re in love with her.’  Except you’re not sure if it’s Clarke’s voice in your head or your own.

You wonder if you should ask Lexa to turn on some music because you didn’t mind the silence so much before, but now your heart is beating so hard and so loud, you’re sure everyone in a one mile radius can hear it. It feels like you’re in middle school. All she is doing is holding your hand.

Clarke has the decency to finally turn from her position facing you, but not before giving you an evil smirk. It almost ruins the moment. Almost.  

 

\-----------------------------------

 

There’s soft jazz music playing when you enter the predictably tidy apartment. Bellamy is already there when you arrive, ushering you all into the kitchen while Anya simply nods a greeting before returning her attention back to the turkey in the oven.

“It’s almost done,” she says, simply.

Lexa places a hand on her shoulder, earning the slightest hint of a smile. Maybe she’s not as scary as you originally thought.  

“Do you have any bowls or something that I can put this stuff in?” You ask her, as you gesture toward the containers of side dishes. She looks at you rather sternly for a beat and then points to a cupboard. Okay, still scary.

“I’ll help you,” Clarke offers as you pull out the glassware and that’s as good a cease-fire as you’ll get so you nod. Lexa grabs the silverware and walks out to the dining room to set the table. Bellamy follows her with the napkins and plates.

“What do _I_ do then?” Raven pulls herself up onto the counter.

“Just sit there and look pretty.” It’s out before you have time to question it. Clarke snorts, delighted and your cheeks burn. You risk a quick glance at Raven and she’s just smiling at you all bashful. You’re still not used to her looking anything less than cocky. Despite your embarrassment, you smile back.

“Alright! Ready!”

Anya pulls an oven mitt on each hand and opens the oven, expertly pulling out the turkey.

You’ve never had a proper Thanksgiving meal before. This looks like something off the cover of a culinary magazine.

 

When you are all seated at the table and your plates (and wine glasses) are all full, you immediately start to dig in. Just as your fork is about to reach your mouth, Anya grabs your hand and pulls it back. You’re not sure entirely sure why, but you think you’re about to be murdered. She just quirks an eyebrow, though, and says, “We have to pray first.”

“O...kay” You reply, dumbly. She releases your hand with a sharp laugh.

“I’m just fucking with you.”

You breathe out a relieved sigh and everyone laughs at you. You still make sure not to take a bite until Anya has. Luckily, she leaves you alone for the rest of the day.

 

The food tastes just as good as it looks and you barely take your eyes off your plate the whole meal. You’re pretty sure there’s a conversation going on about classes or something, but food is the priority. You look up only when Lexa kicks you under the table and you glare at her.

“We’re _talking_ here,” she scolds.

“I’m _eating_ here,” you counter.

You listen, for a moment, to Clarke compliment Anya on the spices she used on the turkey and they begin to discuss some recipe, but then you zone out again and you’re back to stuffing food in your face. That’s what Thanksgiving is all about.

 

By the time all of your plates are empty and most of the food has been fought over and finished, everyone is groaning from overeating. Clarke announces diplomatically:

“Okay, now it’s time for everyone say something you’re thankful for!”

 

“I’m thankful for this amazing food,” Bellamy offers as he begins to unbuckle his belt.  Charming.

“I’m thankful for getting help with the food,” Anya says as if it pains her to say a nice thing.

“I’m thankful for you, Clarke,” Lexa says softly, earning a kiss on the cheek from her girlfriend and an eye roll from Anya.

“I’m thankful for _all_ of you,” Clarke adds.

You look at Raven, who is directly across from you. She gestures for you to go first.

“Okay. I guess I’m thankful to have my first Thanksgiving with people other than just that neanderthal over there.”

“Be serious, O!” Clarke scolds you, but she’s smiling too much for you to believe she’s actually mad. Bellamy wipes away a fake tear and holds onto his chest right over his heart, like you really wounded him.

Then you all look over to Raven, waiting.

“Um, I’m thankful for all the support you guys have given me since...you know.” Suddenly, the mood shifts. Clarke stands up to go kiss Raven on the top of her head.

“Great, now that we got all that mushiness out of the way, let’s watch my favorite flick: A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” Leave it to Bellamy to ruin a moment. He pulls the DVD seemingly out of thin air and you grumble about how he manages to get you to watch it every year.

“Bell, that movie is racist as hell. Why does the black kid have to sit by himself?”

He just pouts at you until you acquiesce.

 

So that’s how the six of you end up piled together on one couch, watching what Bellamy describes as a “classic”. You don’t even clear the table first because you’re college students and there are no real adults there to tell you to.

Clarke is the first to fall asleep, head drooping onto Lexa’s shoulder. On her other side, Raven watches intently, nose crinkling in amusement at something stupid that Snoopy does. It’s endearing. Lexa rests her head on Clarke’s, seeming to be fading out, too. You lean toward Bellamy and close your eyes, but he elbows you in the side and hisses, “are you watching?” Unfortunately, Anya is on your other side and you wouldn’t lean on her if your life depended on it because you’re certain she’d slowly remove one of your limbs if you did.

It’s less than a half hour long movie, but when the credits roll and you look around, you’re the only one who is awake. The screen fades to black and you’re left in a near silent room, surrounded by what you realize is your _family_. Bellamy snores a little bit and you think your chest might explode with love.

You extricate yourself from the couch, careful not to wake anyone (especially Anya) and decide to start carrying dishes from the table to the kitchen. It’s late in the evening and you don’t want to end up leaving the apartment a mess due to everyone’s inevitable sleepiness. Pulling up your sleeves, you assess the massive pile of dishes you’ve collected in the sink and begin the process. You don’t mind washing dishes. There’s a comforting, easy rhythm to it.

Over the clinking of dishes and running water, it’s impossible for you to have heard her approach. Suddenly, a hand is wrapped around your wrist and you jump, dropping the plate in the sink with a jarring clink.

 

“Sorry, sorry! I was just going to tell you we’re leaving in a few minutes.” You twist around and Raven is standing behind you, grimacing. “Did you break it?”

You look at the plate. It’s not broken, but you don’t say that. Instead you say, “don’t you mean, ‘did _I_ break it?’”  

She rolls her eyes, but you see her peek over your shoulder to make sure it isn’t damaged.

“Who knew you had such butter fingers?”

“I don’t. You just startled me.”

“I didn’t know _The_ Octavia Blake was capable of being scared.”

Your ego takes a knock.

“She doesn’t. I don’t. Startling isn’t the same as scaring. It’s just an animal response for survival. Fight-or-flight. You didn’t _scare_ me. I could kick your ass. Easily.”

Raven nods her head emphatically in response, but you can tell by her smirk that she’s doing so mockingly and it drives you crazy. It’s what makes you reach back into the sink and splash her with sudsy water, making her yelp and smack you on the shoulder in response. “You ass!”

She runs back to the safety of the living room, leaving you smiling dumbly in her wake .

“Did I startle you?” You call out after her. She doesn’t answer.

 

\------------------------------------

 

The drive home is a quiet affair. You’re the only one who didn’t get a little nap in and you’re regretting it, eyes droopy. Raven and Clarke switched seats and now Clarke is draped across the entire backseat, head in your lap. You wince at the spot of drool gathering on your jeans. “Your girlfriend drools,”  you say to Lexa, catching her eyes in the rear-view mirror. She smiles so big like you complimented her and agrees softly, “She does.”

The campus is dead when you arrive back. Mostly everyone is home for the holiday. It’s weird, pulling up to the apartment without hearing the faint sound of rap music and drunk men hollering. Weird in a good way, of course. You obnoxiously flick Clarke on the forehead until she sits up, disoriented. Lexa comes around to tug her out. You watch, amused, as Clarke burrows under Lexa's arm and allows her to pull her inside. Raven must have fallen asleep, too, because she's slow to exit the car. You slam her door behind her and she scowls at the sound. She has a red line across her forehead from where it was pressed against the window.

You stifle a laugh. "Come on, sleepy," you murmur. She mumbles something unintelligible in response, glaring when you put your hand on her shoulder to direct her inside. "I'm perfectly capable of walking by myself."  As Raven slurs these words, she trips on a rug in the lobby. You catch her right before she hits the ground and she glares at your laughter. Your laughter tapers off when you pull her up too fast and too close, feeling the puff of her warm breath on your neck.  Your eyes meet for a moment. Her pupils are blown, black blending into the dark brown. She must be really exhausted.

Raven pulls back, shrugging out of your grip. "I've got this." You silently follow her the rest of the way, biting your tongue when she presses the wrong floor number button on the elevator. 

Eventually, you make it to the apartment. The lights are still off, so you assume Lexa and Clarke went straight to bed. It's only eight o'clock, so you're not sure why you're all so exhausted by the day. You intend to lounge on the couch for a bit and watch some trashy TV before you sleep, but Raven tuts disapprovingly when you sit down and nods her head to her bedroom. She looks wide awake now, but you can't quite place the way she's looking at you. 

Naturally, you follow her. "What's up?" You ask as soon as she closes the door behind you. Raven barely glances at you and then, to your utter surprise, pulls her shirt off in one swift motion, standing before you in just a lacy black bra. You slap your hand over your eyes, but the image will be burned in your mind for eternity.

"Are we going to do this or what?"

"Do _what_?" You peek through your fingers and she's unclasping her bra. You gasp and turn to face the door. 

"I see how you look at me, Octavia. You _want_ me. So take me." Her voice is low and suggestive. It makes you waver. 

"I--uh...you...I... _What_?"

You hear her let out a throaty chuckle behind you, but when fingers trail down your back, you jerk away. 

"I'm going to bed," you argue weakly. 

"You sure about that?" 

Your throat is dry and you have no idea what the hell is going on or where this came from, but you do know that it's a bad idea. You start to open the door, but she roughly shoves it back closed. You try not to think of her half bare body beside you. 

"What the hell, Octavia? It's just sex."

That's what does it, makes it easy. You push her out of the way of the door, and reopen it, making sure to keep your eyes trained on the floor. 

"Then find someone else." 

You don't sleep at all that night. 

 


End file.
